Chapter 11 Cute Lesbian Stuff
Cute Lesbian Stuff
I’m supposed to be doing my assignment while Mrs. Matsumoto’s lesson is still fresh in my mind.
But I honestly can’t think about that when I know I’ll be going on my first date with Yua in only a few hours.
I’ve dreamed about this for so long—pictured dates wandering through the Smithsonian or listening to music while picnicking at the park.
But never did I imagine my first date would be in Japan of all places.
And with someone like Yua, who on the surface is so different from me.
When I eventually return to the Nakamura house, everyone’s asleep.
It was such an eventful first day of sewing that the moment I hit my pillow, I’m dead asleep.
The next morning, I wake up to a text from Yua.
She’s sent me a time and an address. We’ll be meeting at a place called Chidorigafuchi Park.
I skim through the Google images of pink cherry blossoms and rolling hills as I hurry downstairs for a quick breakfast. By the time I reach the kitchen, Aiko’s already left to run some errands.
I won’t be able to tell her that Yua and I are going on a date.
I also can’t ask her what I should wear, so I decide to go with my serpentine qipao.
My hands shake as I slide into my short-sleeved black dress with a silver dragon curling up the side.
I shouldn’t be nervous, and yet I’m nowhere near as calm as Ma is when one of her boyfriends picks her up for a night out.
She makes dating look so easy, and here I am wondering if Yua realizes that when I said I’d never been on a date before, I also meant that I’d never been kissed, either. Hell, I’ve never even had my hand held.
I take the train and walk a few blocks before arriving at Chidorigafuchi Park.
I can see why this park inspires her. Her last creative slump happened shortly after being hired to paint that mural.
But after sitting on a park bench and watching the egrets take flight, she knew what she wanted to paint.
This place is so energetic that even the air is vibrating.
Leafy cherry blossom branches dance in the breeze.
If I’d been here during the spring, I might’ve seen them bursting with pink and white petals.
But now, the green trees sit atop hills that dive into the calm river flowing through the center of the park.
Sidewalks and bridges pave the paths around me, twisting like a maze and tempting me to wander off.
Leaves curl like fingers beckoning me to explore the enchantments Tokyo has to offer, but I stay put.
Of all the things I need to take a picture of in Tokyo on Polaroid, my first date should probably be one of them.
I’m about to snap a photo of the blackbirds cawing in the branches when a familiar voice calls my name.
I whirl around and find that Yua’s waving at me from under one of the trees.
She stands on her tiptoes, stretching her arm so high up that the collar of her loose yellow tee falls off her other shoulder.
The branches of her tattoo poke out for a moment.
Yua doesn’t seem to notice, but I catch a woman scrunching her nose before walking away.
I make my way over to Yua, trying not to be annoyed. But I’m looking at this through my American lens, knowing she’d be so much more welcome in America. At least, her tats would be.
“Hi.” I’m breathy when I join Yua. Man, it’s hot here.
But the breeze dries the sweat on the back of my neck.
I should’ve worn my hair up today, but down just matches the slick aesthetic of my qipao.
Besides, I’ve brought my oil-paper umbrella, and it’s relieving me of this sweltering heat wave.
“I see why you come here when you’re stuck.
It feels like the park was made with magic. ”
Yua smiles and lets out a long breath. “I’m glad you think so, too.”
My gaze lingers on the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Is she nervous about this date, too? For a brief moment, I wonder if I should’ve kept the fact that this is my first date a secret.
Yua doesn’t need to know my dating history, and I certainly don’t need to know hers.
But dating is about getting to know someone on a deeper level, right?
My umbrella is big enough to ring me in a perfect shadow with just enough room for one more person. When I hold it over Yua’s head, she slides in right beside me. Close enough for our arms to brush.
“I have a little surprise for you, but I want to keep the wow factor for as long as I can.” Yua reaches into her pocket and pulls out a slip of paper. It looks like a receipt. The only thing I understand is the time stamp: 12:15.
“Isn’t that right now?” I ask, still not knowing what the receipt is for.
“Yup! Let’s go!” Yua beams.
She leads me down the paved path, and I hold my umbrella up for both of us.
Yua might be taller than me, but our strides quickly fall in sync.
More and more people glance our way as we walk.
It’s got to be Yua’s rainbow hair they’re looking at, right?
Or are they looking at my black-on-black ensemble?
This place is more touristy than some of the other places I’ve been, and yet I keep catching glances and stares.
“Why do you want to prolong the surprise?” I have a love-hate relationship with surprises.
In many ways, the anticipation is like watching a horror movie.
Sometimes a surprise comes in the form of a jump scare.
Other times, it’s more of a long, drawn-out drumroll.
Which I love only if the drumroll comes with the eerie sensation of being watched by a lurking darkness.
“I want to treat this like a creativity exercise since doing them is something we both have in common,” Yua says, guiding me down the paved walkway toward the river.
Is this what dating feels like? Just more of what we’ve already been doing, but side by side? No screens. No wondering when she’ll text me back. Just all of this in real time.
I could get used to it.
I pinch my lips together thoughtfully, but my brows are raised with intrigue. “What’s the exercise?”
“Pay attention to your surroundings,” Yua says. “Sometimes in art, the focal point is only captivating because the surrounding ensemble helps to tell the story. So, take a look around. What do you think the story is here?”
We’re still walking down the path, but now we’re passing by a looong line of people standing here for…something. I can’t just eavesdrop on a conversation to figure out what everyone is saying, so instead I try to observe.
The line ends at a cozy hut set on the edge of the river.
There’s a dock that stretches out over the water.
People are climbing into variations of paddleboats or rowboats.
Others are returning them after cruising along the river.
There’s even a boat shaped like a swan skimming the bank on the other side.
“Did you get us a boat for the river?” I can’t contain my curiosity.
Who gets to say they paddled in a river surrounded by cherry blossom trees?
Considering their own whirlwind romances, Whitney and Archi would probably believe me if I told them about this, but I snap a picture for them anyway before looping my camera back over my shoulder.
Yua’s cheeks dimple as she holds up the ticket once more. “Yup.”
“Oh my God.” I’m breathy again, but not because hiking down this hill in these boots was a workout. Yua planned this incredible date and took the time to preorder tickets? Her flag is as green as Taiwan after fresh rain. “That’s such a clever way of saying something without actually saying it.”
Yua stops biting her lips long enough to laugh. “What do you mean?”
“You know what it means,” I reply with a smirk. “You see the world differently. You make sense of it in your own way, and you know how to communicate it to others.”
Yua giggles, then opens her mouth to say something. I catch her shaking her head right before a blush reddens her cheeks.
We’ve reached the front of the line, where a dockworker takes Yua’s ticket and guides us both onto the wooden platform.
I trail behind as the employee instructs Yua on what to do.
The dockworker straps us into bright orange life vests.
They don’t match the aesthetic of my outfit whatsoever.
But safety first, I guess. After he ensures that the vests are perfectly snug, Yua and I each take a seat in a rowboat.
Yua grabs the oars, and the worker pushes us off into the water.
With each row, Yua pulls us farther away from the shore—farther away from the chatter of that long line. Soon, it’s just me and her and the lapping of water against the bottom of the wooden boat.
“I like the way you think,” I say, as if there hasn’t been a pause in our conversation.
“It’s like you truly take the time to ponder everything around you before you make it a statement.
Nothing is surface level. And I think seeing someone so comfortable with expressing themselves makes me want to live my quiet thoughts out loud. ”
Yua stops rowing. She pulls the oars in so they don’t float off and leave us stranded in the middle of the water. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if we were alone out here for the rest of the day.
“You should,” Yua says. “Everyone should have the right to live their quiet lives out loud. Whether it’s by being queer or having tattoos or being goth.
I wish other people here didn’t feel threatened by individuality.
For instance, I hate that my parents are divorced, but I love that I got to live with my dad in the UK.
It gave me some perspective on how the world is.
I got to meet people that I never would’ve met if I’d stayed here my entire life.
I don’t think I ever would’ve fallen in love with body art if not for my summers abroad. ”